


Triangular Thicket

by CaroBertaud



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, Episode: s05e04 Detour, F/M, Forests, Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 12:17:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7050634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaroBertaud/pseuds/CaroBertaud
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mulder and Scully have been asked to assist local authorities as a young boy has been missing for several days in a cursed forest. This takes place several weeks after Detour.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Triangular Thicket

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you again, Michelle, for beta / proofreading :)

******

EDGAR HOOVER BUILDING — WASHINGTON, D.C.

******

 

"Triangular Thicket, Scully. Triangular Thicket is a forest of about two hundreds square miles within northwestern Massachusetts," Mulder started to explain. While talking, he was pressing the button to jump from slide to slide every once in a while. They were photographs of deep and dark woods. "People have been known to disappear, strange lights have been seen, observing green eyes and a heavy black fog have been observed there. Called 'the perfect place to die', the forest has the unfortunate distinction of being a popular place to take one's life. Several other stories tell of people entering the forest and experiencing missing time."

"Oh, really?" Scully grinned, recalling an old case of theirs, their very first case together, as a matter of fact.

"Some have known to be missing for quite some time with no recollection of how they had spent that time." The next slide showed a photograph of a skeleton on the ground. "Annually about a hundred corpses are found but many are forever lost in the very thick woods. Spiritualists say that the trees themselves are filled with a malevolent energy, accumulated from centuries of suicides. Some people have claimed that this forest is a portal to another dimension or spirit world."

"This forest sounds like it's quite something! So, basically, all that's missing is a bunch of various Bigfoot sightings, a satanic cult, pirate ghosts or headless men, giant snakes, and thunderbirds?"

"Yeah. I don't know about that." He smirked. "But Native Americans believed this land was highly sacred and when it was sold, the Wampanoag Tribe might not have backed the deal. Because of that, it is believed that the forest is cursed."

"Any scientific facts to uphold all that you've said, Mulder?"

"Only popular beliefs." He smiled and said "You know me better than that by now, Scully."

"What's your interest in this?"

 

He pressed the button again and the screen showed a smiling blond little boy with blue eyes and glasses.

 

"Thomas Miler, 9 years old. Local authorities have asked for assistance, as this young boy has been missing for three days. The father was found delusional, lost, and injured in town probably three days after going hiking. He claimed his wife was dead and his son missing."

"Probably?"

"They were just passing through town on a vacation trip and had checked into a motel half a week before a local couple found Mr. Miler wandering haggard in the streets."

"How come the local authorities can't handle this on their own?"

"Due to the forest's peculiar aspects, so to speak, they thought we could be of some help." He gestured, indicating their reputation had preceded them. He crossed the office and opened the door, inviting her out. "I booked us two tickets, we're leaving at noon. Don't forget your hiking shoes, Scully."

"Don't forget your matches, Mulder. This time, we'd better be going fully equipped," she said, referring to their latest case in the detour of the Apalachicola National Forest. He smiled at her. She exited and he followed after he switched off the lights.

 

******

MOUNTAIN ROAD COUNTY SHERIFF

******

 

Sheriff Mark Franklin had a rectangular face with a defined, slightly pointed chin and a sturdy jaw line. His clear and liquid brown eyes sitting below trim eyebrows and his straight nose gave Scully an impression of a salt-of-the-earth serenity. Over all, his whole strong features were somewhat reassuring.

 

"I was born and raised here. I know the stories. I didn't try to push my luck, but I never had any problem when I went down there. Yet, I've witnessed people coming back from the forest with inexplicable rashes or feeling very light-headed and ill. Locals will warn you that if you enter the forest, you may never return," Franklin explained.

"But you don't believe that," Scully said.

"I believe there is something out there. But I cannot fathom or even qualify what that is. I don't know what's happening, whether it's their own beliefs that provoke all those things or if there's actually more to it. I prefer to keep a rational mind."

"Where's Mr. Miler now?" Mulder asked while Scully nodded.

"In the hospital. But I wouldn't waste my time there if I were you. He's completely out of it. He's been delusional for a while and now not a single word will come out of his mouth."

"Have you sent men out in the woods yet?"

"I spent four hours out there yesterday. Didn't find anything. But I couldn't go too far deep on my own."

"How come you were alone?" Scully asked.

"It's... Hmm... My colleagues are not from around here, and they'd rather get fired than walk near these woods."

"You've got to be kidding." Scully widened her eyes in surprise.

"I'm not, unfortunately. We are only three police officers here; it's not a big community. But my two colleagues have already asked to be relocated elsewhere."

"So you'll be guiding us tomorrow?" Mulder asked.

"Like I said, I don't know these woods well but yeah, I'll go with you. We gotta find this kid. I would have sent choppers if we could see something from up there. Unfortunately, the trees are over hundreds of years old, so you can't see anything from up there. Moreover, the electronic devices are known to malfunction when introduced into the area."

 

******

 

When Mulder and Scully left Sheriff Franklin later that day, they walked around and tried to gather more information about the Triangular Thicket forest.

Mountain Road, MA was a pretty pleasant little village. It was a million miles from all its forest's horrible legends. It was the middle of the spring, and streets were wide and sunny with great green oak trees on sidewalks. The buildings on each sides of the road were no higher than two-story houses and their colors were unstained light gray, blue or ocher. Streetlamps, some old gas lamps, were endearing testimonials from another century. Really, this place was charming. The local people however were not that endearing, to say the least.

The few locals who agreed or dared to talk to Mulder and Scully said they considered it an evil, cursed place. The ones that didn't want to talk barely consented to say it was taboo subject and hastened their pace away from the FBI agents. People were afraid to enter these woods. "All these things happen with no reasonable explanation," one mentioned before advising them to stay away from the forest. Some of the locals even didn't believe Mulder and Scully were from the FBI, because they were so used to having ghost hunters, paranormal investigators and parapsychologists come satiate their needs for thrills and mysteries. Those were the kind of people that had been coming out here, that had been attracted to it.

Mulder and Scully were sitting on each side of a booth, facing each other in a diner. The waitress, a woman in her forties, slightly chubby, was holding a steaming coffee pot, standing with a hand on her waist, at the end of the table.

 

"Even dogs won't go near the site! That's supposed to say something, right? I mean, they have a sense for it!" The woman mumbled.

"Have you ever walked there?" Scully questioned, already knowing the answer.

"You crazy? Life ain't as I dreamed it'd be when I was a kid, but it's still life!"

"You're afraid you'd die?" Mulder asked.

"You damn right I am!"

 

Yes, there was something strange in this almost paranoid fear strangling all these people. They all had the same frightened look, the same dreadful fear in their eyes. And yet none of them had ever really seen anything.

 

******

 

A couple of hours later, Mulder and Scully checked into the only motel around. It was not really a motel, though. Hillcrest Inn seemed to stand on its own little hill like royalty. From the outside, it looked a bit impressive compared to all the average and ordinary motels Mulder and Scully had been used to. It was built with white pine wood and had blue stone decorations. Tall, rectangular windows added in a mostly asymmetric way let in plenty of light. Two large chimneys poked out from the center of the roof. The inn itself was surrounded by a tranquil garden with various flowers.

Scully was unpacking her toiletries when Mulder knocked on her door. She opened it and let him in.

 

"Cozy, huh?" He said as he sat down in an armchair in the corner of the room. It really was nothing like the kind of cheap places they were used to staying in. The room was simple but elegant, clean and enlightened. Almost like a mask, a folding screen or a smoke-screen to a much darker place. Almost too perfect to be true.

"So, you gonna be okay?" He asked while Scully kept rummaging through her luggage.

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

"The stories we've been told the whole day are not particularly the ones you like to hear before bedtime."

"All we've heard today are rumors. Nobody seems to have even..." She was looking for the right word.

"Dared?" Mulder offered.

"Yeah. Dared to go out there. Actually, the only one who has been brave enough to venture into these woods is the Sheriff. And he says he never encountered anything out of the ordinary." She genuinely didn't seem a bit afraid of what they would find or see there.

"Do you know why it's called 'Triangular Thicket', Scully?" Mulder asked, a mysterious smile on the corner of his lips.

"Its shape, as seen from the sky? Or the shape of its trees?" She tried.

"Nope. It was renamed 'Triangular Thicket' as a reference to the Bermuda Triangle," he smiled.

"That's supposed to freak me out?" She smiled back.

"Does it?" He smiled again.

"I'll tell you about that tomorrow."

"Good night, Scully," he said while getting up and exiting her room.

"Sleep tight, Mulder."

 

******

TRIANGULAR THICKET

******

 

Mark Franklin parked his County Sheriff car in the empty parking lot at the entrance of the Triangular Thicket after he had just picked up Mulder and Scully. They exited the car and retrieved three big backpacks from the trunk. They were now surrounded by huge ancient trees, stretched high above. Although it was early in the morning, only a few rays of sunlight dared to flirt through the thick branches. The contrast with the village was hugely eloquent.

Once they were settled with their bags on their backs, Mulder and Scully looked at each other with a mixture of fear and excitement, and then they followed Franklin who had just begun walking toward the woods. Mulder let Scully lead the way and he closed the hikers' line. The three of them knew what they had to do; they all knew what they were here for. They didn't exchange words before hiking, they just moved ahead, as if to say "Let's get this over with."

Just after a few feet, Scully stopped and raised her face up towards the top of the trees.

 

"Something wrong?" Mulder asked as he stopped by her side, cupping her elbow.

"I don't know. I could swear there were birds singing when we arrived, and now it's all quiet."

 

Mulder had noticed this too. The birds had stopped singing the moment Franklin stepped into the woods. It was now so quiet, one could have heard a pin drop.

 

"Come on, let's go," he said, starting to walk again and gently pushing her.

 

The trail was actually just wide enough for them to walk side by side. Franklin was walking just a few feet before them, calling out Thomas' name from time to time. Mulder and Scully were quiet. They were checking their surroundings, watchful, scrupulous. Neither of them were generally totally quiet when they were on a case, especially Mulder, he always had something to tell based upon the documentary he had gathered. But this time, it was like there was a bit of a fear. There was too much unknown, even for him.

The local vegetation was spooky, like something out of a make-believe story with strangely shaped trees, somehow warped and crooked, and unexplained charring on tree stumps and branches. The deeper they were penetrating within the woods, the darker and more humid it became. They could feel their pants beginning to stick to their legs. And all this quietness was chilly. Scully shivered when all of the sudden she felt a drop in temperature. She stopped again and looked around.

 

"You felt that too?" She shouted so that Franklin could hear her too.

"Yeah," the men said together, checking their surroundings.

 

She knew they had felt it because the moment she did, it was not just she who had stopped walking. They all had. And Mulder had put his hand onto the holster of his gun.

 

"Thomas!" Mulder yelled again.

 

But even his own voice didn't echo. It was all silent as hell and when they yelled, shouts were deadened, as if they were captured in a jar filled with cotton. Mulder checked his watch. They had been walking for about six hours, barely stopping for a sandwich break.

 

"We should set up camp here, Sheriff," Mulder suggested.

"Let's walk just a little further to see if the temperature rises and we'll call it a day," Franklin offered.

 

His hiking map and compass in hand, Franklin led the way again, followed by Scully, then Mulder. Franklin was being very cautious and was writing down dots on the map every once in a while. That was actually a better idea than Michelle's little white stones... as long as they didn't lose the map.

They walked about half an hour and the temperature remained low. But ever since it had dropped and they started walking again, Mulder had kept looking behind him. He had a strong sense of being followed, and the feeling of being constantly watched.

 

******

 

Mulder and Franklin had set up the three little tents while Scully had started a fire. They had decided to set up camp in some kind of a clearing. The woods were less dense there but they could still hear the aged trees' creaking branches above them.

After the sun set, the three law enforcements all felt like the wind seemed to speak, to cry. To different degrees, intense feelings of anxiety rushed through them. They were in the middle of a circle of skyscraper trees on which lights from the fire were drawing odd and awful dark shapes.

They sat around the fire and shared soup with bread. They could still hear the weighty, repetitive and dreary noise, like drums beating in the darkness of the night and the woods. Scully didn't want to look afraid when every once in a while she looked around her. She wished Mulder would have some good joke to ease every one's nerves. But he was quietly sipping his soup, his hands warming up against the hot bowl. He tilted his face up and held Scully's steady gaze at him. He raised his eyes in question. She had an air of authority that was palpable when she told herself, "It's nothing, you're imagining things." He could feel she was comforting herself, strengthening her mind.

 

"Scully and I were out in the wild a while back," Mulder said, suddenly breaking the heavy atmosphere.

"Bless you, Mulder," Scully thought, smiling at him and paying attention to his welcome story.

"You were?" Franklin asked, a bit relieved, too, to hear the sound of a voice again.

"Yeah, we were after invisible creatures with glowing red eyes," Mulder smiled.

"Technically, we were after a man, Mulder," Scully pointed out.

"We were?" He grinned, definitely trying to create a friendly climate to soften the atmosphere. "Do you want to tell the story or shall I continue?"

"Please," she answered with a bright and tender smile.

"So, yes, there's a missing man behind the whereabouts. Anyway, before nightfall, we had lost our two hiking companions, two sets of creatures had divided us, and now we were lost."

"But Mulder was an Indian Guide," Scully smirked toward Franklin.

"Ouch!" He placed both hands above his heart as if an arrow had pierced it. "Well, yeah, but I was injured."

"Oh, what happened?" He asked and then to Scully, "Aren't you a medical doctor too, Agent Scully?"

"Yes, she is!" he said, pointing an accusing finger at her.

"If it weren't for me, you'd be dead. Give me a little credit here, Mulder."

"Oh, I'll give you all the credit you want, Scully. You did save my ass," he replied, totally honest, and then he turned to Franklin. "But the best part of the story is yet to come, Sheriff." He then turned to Scully who gave him a wary and defiant look, trying to remain serious and to hold back laughter, "the better part, Sheriff, was when Scully sang for me at night!"

 

Franklin swallowed back laughter but could not restrain a large smile at the little game that was being played before him, not daring to ask her to sing again.

 

"The best part of the story is that Scully saved the day. I'm gonna leave you too with these wise words and try and get some sleep, gentlemen," she said while standing up. Franklin stood up too in courteousness and then sat back down by Mulder.

"You two look like you have a great partnership," Franklin said, staring at Scully's tent.

"Yeah," he said thoughtfully, staring at her tent too.

"Well, you go ahead and get some sleep. I'll take the first shift and wake you in a couple of hours," Franklin said, standing and taking the empty bowl out of Mulder's hands.

 

******

 

Mulder's memories had kept Scully light and peaceful for a little while. But she and her mind were now back in Triangular Thicket again. Groans were heard in the wind again. Unease and nervousness rushed through her. She grabbed her little pillow and covered her face with it. These noises outside were driving her nuts. Her pulse ramped up and she froze, all her breath trapped at every slightest sound. She knew it was all an irrational fear. It was just the wind, just her mind playing tricks on her. "This is just your imagination, only your imagination," she kept repeating over and over. Yet her heart wouldn't settle. After a little while spent considering whether or not to go to Mulder's tent, she rolled her sleeping bag underneath her arm and exited her tent.

She passed by Franklin who was pacing around the fire, smiled at him awkwardly, and kneeled in front of Mulder's tent.

 

"You asleep?" She whispered while opening the zipper of the tent.

"No," he whispered back.

"Do you mind if we share a tent?" She thrust her head through the door flaps.

"Of course not, come in," he said, propping himself up on his elbows.

"I know it's irrational, but I can't sleep," she said while closing the flaps behind her.

"It's okay. I can't sleep either."

"How come?"

"You don't wanna know," he smiled.

"Why?"

"I don't wanna be the one to keep you from sleeping!"

 

At this moment, a deep and loud laugh was heard coming from the woods. They stared at each other in silence for a second, straining to hear, and then rushed outside the tent.

 

"What the hell was that?" Franklin asked, spinning around.

 

There was deep fear in his eyes and voice. His gun was in hand although it was not when Scully passed him just a moment before. It was silent again, except for ubiquitous little cries from the wind.

 

"You okay?" Mulder asked, taking his gun out too.

"Yeah. Go back to sleep, I'll wake you in an hour or two. I can't sleep anyway."

 

Mulder and Scully complied and lied back down on their backs next to each other. Scully pulled the sleeping bag up her chin. It was still very cold although they were protected from the wind inside of the tent.

 

"Don't ask me to sing, Mulder," she grinned after a while as they were both wide awake, incapable of sleeping.

"I'm sure it was just our minds playing tricks on us," Mulder said, almost making it sound like a question.

"I'm sure it is. It's just the wind."

"Right."

"This forest is so damn silent!" Scully let out.

"You liked the tree men from Florida better?"

She turned her face to him and smiled. Did she? "I don't know, Mulder. But at least there was something. Out here, there's just... legends of ghosts stories."

"Among other things," he pinpointed. "But yeah. Just stories. Go to sleep, Scully. We're gonna have a long day if we gotta find this kid tomorrow."

"You go to sleep too, Mulder, we're not spending another night out here."

"Yeah." He kissed her on the temple, "Good night, Scully."

 

 They closed their eyes and eventually fell asleep. During the night, they each took their shifts on watch.

 

******

 

When Mulder woke up, he felt numb all the way up his right arm. He rose and tilted his head, looking at Scully. Still asleep, she was curled up into a ball against him, her head turned to him and settled onto his arm. He gazed at her, not daring to move, she looked at ease.

 

"Agent Mulder! Agent Scully!" Franklin shouted from outside the tent.

 

Scully opened her eyes and Mulder pushed himself up on his elbows — well, at least the left one — and opened the tent. It was still quite dark, just before sunrise. Mulder couldn't believe what he was seeing. There he was. The boy, Thomas, was right there outside the tents, apparently unharmed, with Sheriff Franklin. Franklin explained he came out from the trees. Scully cupped the back of the boy's head and gave him a glass of water. Mulder kneeled in front of him and asked him how he was feeling. Thomas remained quiet for a while; Mulder, Scully and Franklin looked at each other, wondering without asking if his voice had died like his father's. Then suddenly he started to talk. He claimed he had been abandoned by his depressed father. He claimed his father had pushed his mother off a cliff. When Scully carefully asked him if he knew where his mother was, he answered the cliff was too rugged and hilly for him to climb down.

 

"You're a very brave boy, Thomas. You're safe now," Scully said, trying to comfort and reassure him.

 

******

 

After Scully got her first aid kit and checked on Thomas, after they had breakfast, and after they packed up their camp, they started to walk in the direction of the cliff. There, Franklin pulled a rope out of his bag and tied it around a tree while Mulder put his backpack down, took the other end of the rope, passed it around his waist, and tied a knot. Without a second thought, Mulder lowered himself down the precipice, helped down by Franklin. Scully just stared at him, her hand protectively lying on Thomas' shoulder.

Mulder shouted he was loosening the rope as he was down, and then he looked around. He withdrew his gun and began pulling away from the cliff. Twigs crunched under his feet as he started walking. Unlike up the crag, the soil down here was dry and crispy, the green dominance had disappeared to a gingerbread brown color, and a vaporous mist, somewhat phantasmal, was encircling the trees' feet. Mulder was in awe of the impressive size and majesty of the trees. They were proudly-standing hoary fortresses. Their knotted arms rose ever upwards, as far as his head could lift. Mulder could swear he saw cruel, atrocious and inhuman eyes forming upon some of the trees trunks. As he kept walking slowly and carefully on the crumbling leaf-carpeted path, cupping his hands and calling out Elisabeth's name, he felt the forest beckoning him into its pulsing heart. He felt himself sliding toward the edge of something ominous, something filled with dark, heavy thoughts and deadly intent.

When he wandered in another direction, he whipped around, holding back a cry. He abruptly took a step back and fell back on his butt onto the ground. A woman's body was hung from a rope tightened on a hideous branch. Mulder's hands were flat on the ground, but his feet were still running out of reflex, brushing the vegetal floor and pushing the dry leaves further away from him until a skeleton skull was uncovered. He jumped on his buttocks further back.

 

"You okay down there?" He heard Scully call out for him. "Mulder?"

"Yeah! Yeah!" He yelled back, getting up and heading back rapidly. "Coming back up!"

 

He was about to climb back up, tightening the rope around him and giving it a little shake, when he had the distinct feeling again of not being alone. He whipped around and raised his weapon. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, he saw a light shielded behind the notorious denseness of the trees.

 

"Do you see that?" He shouted upward.

"See what?" Scully shouted back.

"That light?"

"We don't see any light, Mulder!"

 

Mulder checked his watch; it had stopped working.

 

"Are your watches still working?"

"No," Scully shouted.

"Why?" Franklin yelled.

 

He loosened the rope again and started walking toward the light. Scully yelled at him not to go, that she was coming down for him. But he didn't listen and went anyway. As he got closer, the orb of light disappeared. He was standing before a large crater. There were a couple of hung people and skeletons on the ground. Mulder felt in his gut he was standing in front of the heart of the haunted ground; its sepulchral silence overhung the hollow cathedral of death, of the lost souls. What had led these people so deep into the forest? Mulder wanted to know. Or no, maybe he shouldn't know. He was confused, fighting against his own mind, his own will. His legs were not responding; they were pulling him further, closer to the crater's core.

 

"Come on, Mulder!" Scully suddenly said gently, cupping his arm and pulling him back.

 

He turned around at her touch. His breathing was harsh and his heart pounded so loudly she could almost hear it when she met his gaze.

 

"What's wrong?" She worryingly asked, putting her hand flat on his forehead. She looked up and saw the hanged bodies. Other than when facing fire, Scully had hardly ever seen Mulder afraid. But as she locked her eyes with his, she saw fear. Deep, acute and inward fear. She saw imploring eyes. "Come on, let's go," she whispered again, pulling him backwards and keeping eye contact. "That's right, Mulder. You're alright."

 

Franklin had to pull twice as hard to help Mulder back up. Mulder was limp, still down there somehow. Then Franklin helped Scully. She settled her partner in a sitting position against a tree and cupped his forehead again, called his name softly. Little by little, he came back from wherever he was.

 

"Oh, my head..." Mulder said when he had regained all consciousness, cupping his head and Scully's hand.

"Where does it hurt?"

"It's just a headache," he said while beginning to stand up, deeply breathing in. She stopped him with a hand on his shoulder and questioned him by raising her eyebrows. He didn't say more.

"What happened? Did you see something?" She asked, concerned.

"No, I didn't see anything. It was just... an overwhelming feeling."

"What kind of a feeling?"

"A dismal and gloomy feeling," he answered, "Come on, help me up and let's get outta here."

 

As she pulled him upright and helped him find his balance, Franklin said it was too late to head back. From last night's camp, it was a six to seven hour hike. He glanced at Thomas, implying "without a child". Therefore, they settled camp where they did the previous night.

 

******

 

As darkness fell upon them for the second night in a row, they began to hear groans, breathing, and screams.

Mulder and Franklin went out to pick up some branches. They were a few feet away from one another, but they stared at each other as they heard female voices, even maybe something like giggling breaking the heavy silence of the woods behind them. Suddenly Franklin witnessed Mulder's arms being blown up and out before him, as though he had just been hit by an invisible force. He screamed and vanished in a flash of light.

Scully turned her face at once as she heard Mulder's scream while Franklin rushed towards Mulder.

Scully kneeled in front of Thomas, putting her hands on his shoulders in a tender gesture and pushed him inside a tent. Then she darted toward the clearing and found Franklin by Mulder's side, the latter lying on the ground somewhat unresponsive and in shock. He had numerous fresh linear scratches like claw marks up his arms underneath his ripped sleeves.

 

"It felt like wind just blew at me," Mulder said when he finally recovered, "and suddenly pushed me across the clearing."

 

Mulder didn't notice it right away because the forest was too quiet, but as he talked, he realized he was suffering from hearing loss. It was temporary and his hearing functions came back after a few minutes. Then he grabbed his head as he felt a headache growing again. He urgently stood up and bent over a few feet away, vomiting.

 

******

 

Thomas was asleep in the Sheriff's tent and Mulder was resting in his. Near the fire, Scully excused herself and said good night to Franklin to go and check on her partner.

 

"Agent Scully!" He called out when she was about to get in the tent. She spun around. "I'll stay awake tonight, don't bother coming out," he smiled.

"Why, no!"

"Don't worry. I wouldn't sleep even if I wanted to."

 

She took a moment to take a good look at his reassuring athletic features and thanked him. At the moment she came in, Mulder slid his fingers around the grip of his gun and raised it, appalled by how much his hands shook.

 

"It's just me," she whispered, concerned and motionless in the entrance.

 

He exhaled deeply, lowered his gun and she entered the tent, taking the time closing the zipper to briefly think. She settled next to him, covering herself with the sleeping bag and looked at her partner. He had closed his eyes and was lying down again, the fingers of both his hands intertwined above his chest. He had changed his sweater but one could see the beginning of a bandage around his wrists. She leaned down on her back, gently brushed his arm and took one of his hands. He squeezed her hand tighter and covered their intertwined hands with his other hand. She turned her face to him. He had kept his eyes closed and she kept staring at him, filled with uneasiness.

 

"You still have a migraine?" She asked softly. He didn't answer, nor open his eyes, but he nodded his head yes. "Does it ache somewhere else?"

He opened his eyes and slowly turned his face to her. He was concerned. He took a minute to search for his words. "I feel... weird. Mostly inexplicably anxious." He averted his eyes.

"Mulder, I —"

"Scully, I'm gonna be okay," he cut her off, sighing. She was too worried to acknowledge. He looked at her again. "There were... very strong forces out there, Scully." That she did acknowledge. She had seen them all in his eyes down that cliff. She could still see them. She nervously thumbed his knuckles. "I believe I saw Death itself," he murmured, opening up to her.

 

As she sensed he was trying to shut off his growing emotion, Scully turned her body to the side. She reached out to his hair with her free hand and fondled it.

 

"It was pulling me in, Scully... I was giving in... I couldn't do anything... It had taken control over me..."

 

He could not hold back his tears anymore. She shushed him tenderly, squeezed his hand harder and pulled his head to her, gluing her lips on his forehead and closing her eyes. He swallowed his gasps, broke her kiss and wrapped her shoulders with both arms. He pulled her chest to his, her legs remaining along his side on the groundsheet. He stroked the back of her head, laid it down his chest, and lost his face in her messy hair.

 

"If it weren't for you, —"

"Shush... It's over, Mulder," she whispered as he felt his whole body tremble around her. "It's okay, you're gonna be okay." She swathed him too, tightened her grip and closed her eyes; his pain was unbearable.

 

After a while they managed to fall asleep thus settled in each other's arms.

 

******

 

Mulder woke up long before Scully did but he didn't move except for pulling Scully's sleeping bag up around her shoulders. He laid his hands flat on her back, holding onto her, and then he tilted his head backwards. As he breathed deeply, Scully was rising up and down on his chest. One of her hands was still loosely gripping his upper arm, the other had fallen along his ribcage, her hand nested underneath his armpit. Strands of her hair were gently tickling below his unshaven chin, trapped in his growing beard. Her head was tilted to the side on his breastbone at the junction of his collarbones, her mouth slightly opened. He smiled at the thought of finding a drool stain on his shirt but he really didn't care. He had been so scared and distraught yesterday, fear coursing through every single of his veins, literally blue in the face from extreme exhaustion of straining to come back among the living, that he was just thankful for her to be here for him again. He felt stronger when he was holding her. He felt safe. She was a shelter to him. He gently pressed her tighter against him, eyes closed, filling her scent in his lungs in long and deep breaths and feeling blessed.

 

******

MOUNTAIN ROAD, MA

******

 

No matter how many times Mulder had complained and stated he was fine and didn't need to see a doctor, Scully had had the final word. After checking on Thomas in another room of Mountain Road Hospital, she had said goodnight to her partner and had headed back to Hillcrest Inn. She had been excited just to think about a long hot shower and a comfy bed.

When she came out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel tied over her chest, she sat down in front of her opened laptop on the desk. The cursor was still blinking at the end of the paragraph that she had previously typed. She put her glasses on and typed the end of her field report.

 

_Despite his son's accusations regarding his wife Elizabeth, Mr. Miler refuted having killed his wife. He genuinely looked torn apart while recounting how her wife had seemed to be possessed and how he tried to pull her away from the cliff. Mr. Miler's allegations can hardly be upheld; Mrs. Miler nor her body were anywhere to be found. The description Mr. Miler gave regarding his wife's condition prior to her disappearance is yet very close to what Agent Mulder seemed to have experienced._

_Agent Mulder is slowly recovering from psychological and physical injuries. I myself witnessed his state of mind when he was attacked by what he described as "very strong forces". Those forces seemed to have literally taken control over his body and mind. Although not suicidal, I believe it is very possible that Agent Mulder might have killed himself if I had not intervened. Agent Mulder suggested these forces might have been Death itself._

_I cannot comprehend nor describe the forces at stake in Triangular Thicket. And I can only talk for myself when I say that, although I was skeptical about the popular beliefs, the forest has left me with a feeling of malaise and oppression. I suggest Mr. Miler should be given the benefit of the doubt._


End file.
